<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>when you were fun by garbagemanmilo</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29674482">when you were fun</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/garbagemanmilo/pseuds/garbagemanmilo'>garbagemanmilo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>All Elite Wrestling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Come Swallowing, Coming In Pants, Dirty Talk, Extremely Dubious Consent, Face-Fucking, Forced Feminization, Forced Orgasm, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, No Lube, Prostate Massage, handjob, throat-fucking, using the terms “cunt” and “clit” to refer to marko’s penis and asshole</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:20:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,446</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29674482</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/garbagemanmilo/pseuds/garbagemanmilo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
            <p>Marko is kidnapped and got far more than he bargained for.</p>
          </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>(implied) Jungle Boy/Judas Devlin | Luchasaurus/Marko Stunt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. an ache instead</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Marko is kidnapped and got far more than he bargained for.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><span>Dax and Cash tower over Marko usually; that’s just the fact of being five foot two. It doesn’t bother him anymore- at least, he didn’t </span><em><span>think</span></em><span> it did- but handcuffed to a chair, duct tape slapped over his mouth makes Marko feel overwhelmingly vulnerable. He’s </span><em><span>very</span></em> <em><span>much</span></em><span> bothered by the significant height difference, especially because Dax keeps tilting his face from side-to-side, like he’s appraising livestock. Like he’s appraising Marko.</span></p><p>
  <span>And then Cash has a hand over Marko’s crotch, his touch just rough enough, unexpected enough, to make him gasp and flush pink all the way to his hairline. Dax rips the duct tape off the younger man’s mouth, and he shudders as Cash rubs and grinds his palm against Marko’s dick, the attention making it swell and harden in his jeans, and it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>so fucking embarrassing</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The little noises caused by Cash’s ministrations form into stressed, choked-off words. “Pl-please, not- </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>nn</span>
  </em>
  <span>, st-o-</span>
  <em>
    <span>op</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Marko whimpers, turns his head to one side and squeezes his eyes shut, but Cash’s hand never stops moving, stroking the outline of his cock through the denim. It’s torture, because Marko knows, eventually, that he’ll cum from this, from Cash jerking him off over his pants while he’s tied down. There’s a low, purring sound right by Marko’s ear, one that he clocks as someone’s fly and Jesus </span>
  <em>
    <span>Christ</span>
  </em>
  <span>, his dick twitches under Cash’s palm. Something hot and velvety presses against his cheek, nudges it and smears precum there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Open up, Stunt,” Dax mutters, and a rough hand grabs his jaw and pries it wide. Marko lets him, lets Dax slide his cock over his tongue and down his throat, fat tears sliding down his face. The sensation is familiar- he isn’t a virgin by any means, despite what folks on the internet say- but instead of Austin or Jack, it’s Dax Harwood, sort of fucking into his mouth, making these low, soft grunts as he uses Marko to his own pleasure. Marko keeps his eyes closed while Cash works his dick over his jeans, movements rough and a little painful, and he moans around Dax, bucks his hips up involuntarily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two hands fist into Marko’s curls, keep his head in place as Dax starts fucking his throat in earnest, cock pulsing against the younger man’s palate, heavy on his tongue. Cash keeps his pace as Dax’s gets sloppier, uncoordinated, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>god</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he just wants it to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>over</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Gonna cum,” Dax groans, thrusts in one last time and crushes Marko’s nose into his pubes as he orgasms. His cum runs in a thick river down Marko’s throat, rendering him unable to breathe for a split second as he remembers to swallow, but he still chokes when Cash squeezes his dick, drawing him close to the edge he doesn’t want to fall over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dax withdraws after his cock stops throbbing, letting Marko draw in a sharp breath, one that turns into a hoarse little moan halfway through. Cash is murmuring something to him, lips against his ear, “cum for us, Marko, cum for us,” and he sobs, broken and so, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> desperate as he orgasms- absolutely ruining the inside of his jeans, no doubt. Marko pants heavily while Cash rubs him through the aftershocks, bordering on overstimulation, and then his hand is off, just like that. He still doesn’t open his eyes until there’s two </span>
  <em>
    <span>clicks</span>
  </em>
  <span> in succession, and the cuffs around his wrists fall away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marko stands, wobbling, throat overworked and aching, and finally peels open his eyes. He’s alone in the room; Dax, Cash, and Tully vanished into thin air. With his own cum cooling in his jeans, Marko makes his way from the room, ears burning with shame.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. i know i’m no sweet prince of love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Marko finds himself right back where he was last time, but a few things change.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Marko doesn’t fight and thrash the second time he finds himself handcuffed to a chair. He doesn’t try to yell at Dax and Cash, just goes lax when Tully sets up a camcorder and exits again. Dax circles around the back of the chair, tips it back so Marko is staring, upside-down, at his rival’s smug grin. “You know,” he says, “you’re not a handsome boy, but you’d make a pretty girl.” Marko goes pink at that, eyes widening with surprise, and then Cash is over top of him again, opening his jeans and dragging them down his thighs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dax keeps talking while Marko is stripped from the waist down, soft cock exposed to their prying eyes. “Yeah, you’d make a pretty woman, Marko. Cash, isn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>she</span>
  </em>
  <span> so pretty?” he asks, and Cash smirks, mean, before nodding. Marko squirms, arching his back and shifting his hips, attempting to cover himself when the two start touching him. “Stop, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he whimpers, tries to close his legs, but Cash is still caught between them, and a large hand wraps around his cock and gives it a few rough tugs, dry and painful. “Get her clit hard, make her feel good,” Dax says, keeping his own fingers tangled in Marko’s curls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His wrists hurt from the handcuffs digging into them, but it’s easy to forget that when Cash Wheeler is shoving his thighs even further apart and pushing his legs back, back, until Marko’s knees touch his shoulders. “Not wet yet?” Dax asks, and Cash shakes his head, makes a tsk-ing noise as he rubs his thumb over the younger man’s asshole. The sensation makes Marko flinch and hiss, but then the tip of Cash’s middle finger presses inside him, unlubed and uncaring. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw, </span>
  <em>
    <span>c’mon</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Cash, gotta get her cunt wet,” someone says- maybe Dax, maybe Tully- but Marko grits his teeth against the unpleasant feeling, tears starting to well in his eyes. He wants to leave, wants to be anywhere but here. Lips touch the side of his neck, almost kind, and Marko sobs, shoulders shaking with the force of it as Cash adds another finger, pumping them back and forth, curling them and brushing against the shorter man’s prostate. It sends horrible bursts of pleasure up Marko’s spine, and his dick starts getting hard, leaking precum on his belly. More open-mouthed, dirty kisses are lavished on his throat- hot and wet and </span>
  <em>
    <span>so awful</span>
  </em>
  <span>- Cash’s fingers stilling to simply rub against the sensitive bundle of nerves, massaging it and getting choked gasps and high, breathy moans from Marko.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lips on his neck leave, and Dax croons in his ear, “is Cash hittin’ your g-spot, baby girl? Does it feel good?” Marko shudders, head pounding from his tears, and suddenly Cash does something, something that jabs his fingers harder against his prostate, and god, he shrieks as he orgasms, cum splattering his stomach and chest, sticky and warm and </span>
  <em>
    <span>shameful</span>
  </em>
  <span>, then Dax reaches between his legs and begins stroking his cock, paying no mind to the younger man’s weak protests. Marko’s nerves are absolutely shot, so overstimulated by Dax’s hand pumping his cock and Cash’s fingers pressing insistently on his prostate, and he starts crying again, trembling through a second orgasm- more cum spurting onto his body, adding to the mess- but the two men don’t stop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marko is sure he passes out at some point, because he comes to and his wrists are uncuffed and his pants and underwear are still around his ankles. His cum is tacky on his feverish skin, and he feels rubbed raw all over- he shifts and winces at the realization that the sensation also extends to inside himself- but he just sighs, closes his eyes and tries to take deep, slow breaths. Moving at a snail’s pace, Marko starts pulling up his pants, his cock twitching as the fabric brushes his oversensitized skin. Pushing up and out of the chair, he manages to zip up his fly, and gently adjusts himself through his jeans, shuddering out a soft moan as his dick starts getting hard again. Opening his eyes once more, he stumbles to the doorway, past the camcorder, still there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wobbling down the hallway, Marko keeps one hand on the wall as he walks toward the locker rooms, so exhausted his eyelids keep slipping closed, unable to keep open for more than a few seconds at a time. “Jack?” he calls, voice breaking like glass, leaving shards stuck in his throat, and it </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurts</span>
  </em>
  <span>, hurts to talk, which makes Marko want to curl up and fall asleep forever. A familiar head of curly hair peeks around the locker room door, and he picks up the pace, limping faster to reach his tag partner. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Dude</span>
  </em>
  <span>, what-? Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Marko</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Jack breathes, like he’s devastated, and it takes away any words Marko wants to say. Instead, he just falls into strong, kind arms, ones that support him, even as he goes dead on his feet. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i couldn’t resist writing forced feminization it’s one of my favorite things</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>